


Angry Angel

by Silent_So_Long



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comedy, Crack, Food, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-02
Updated: 2011-08-02
Packaged: 2017-10-22 03:24:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean’s been trying to convince Castiel to eat something for months, and when he finally succeeds, unexpected results occur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angry Angel

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired to write this after seeing the following tweet from Todd Stashwick. Title comes from a song of the same name by Imogen Heap.
> 
> [ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=10nc7ds)

Dean had lost count of the times he’d tried convincing Castiel to eat something, yet Sam could never talk him into giving up. Dean was just that determined to see the angel eating, considering the thought of going hungry close to blasphemy. It didn’t matter to the elder hunter how many times Castiel patiently explained to him he didn’t require sustenance the same way a human did, Dean still tried tempting him anyway.

That day was no different; the sun was shining in through the half full diner window, warming the place and illuminating the dust motes hanging lazily in the air. Sam was nibbling at his usual leafy salad, while Dean was cramming huge forkfuls of bacon and eggs into his already over-filled mouth. Coffee was steaming in front of both Winchesters, filling the air with strong caffeinated aromas. Castiel popped into existence at their table, dark blue eyes already resting heavily upon Dean’s face. Sam barely looked up when he grunted out a greeting, yet Dean was all eggy smiles at the angel.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said, breezily. “D’you want some of my eggs?”

Castiel stared down at the remainder of Dean’s messy breakfast while Sam groaned into his coffee. Castiel shook his head swiftly, yet his eyes remained trained on the remaining strip of bacon left on Dean’s plate. The elder Winchester polished off his eggs, yet pointedly left the bacon, pushing the plate surreptitiously towards the angel beside him. Castiel’s slender hand snaked out and pulled the strip of meat from the plate before gracefully nibbling on it, thoughtfully.

“What are you doing? You never eat,” Sam said, in surprise as he cocked a suspicious glance at Castiel.

“My vessel is craving red meat today, Sam,” Castiel explained.

Sam looked unconvinced by that, but otherwise remained silent. It wasn't the first time that Castiel had succumbed to Jimmy’s urges, after all. Sam reminded himself that Castiel had been pushed into cramming burgers by the hundreds into his mouth through the close proximity of Famine at the time. Insofar as they knew, no horsemen were in town; with the exception of Death, they were all incapacitated still, anyway.

“Hey, while you’re eating and all, d’you want a cupcake? My treat,” Dean offered, as he gestured for one of the waitresses to attend to them.

She breezed over, not giving Castiel time enough to answer the elder Winchester.

“Three of your Red Velvet Cupcakes, sweetheart,” Dean said, to the waitress. “And a refill of my coffee. Sam?”

Sam shook his head at the offer of a coffee refill, and asked for a glass of water instead. The waitress noted their order perkily, before breezing away merrily. Sam lifted one eyebrow in surprise, when Dean didn’t even pay any attention to her, instead turning to stare at Castiel instead. The angel lifted his gaze to meet Dean’s, as he sucked the last scrap of his strip of bacon between his lips. He chewed, but remained silent, gaze locked with Dean’s in their eternal struggle for silent dominance.

Sam shook his head at that, surprised at how the couple seemed able to stare for long periods at each other without even blinking. He cleared his throat when the waitress returned with their fresh order. Castiel began nibbling at his cupcake primly after it was placed in front of him, staring down at the vivid red sponge intermittently with suspicious eyes. Dean finally took pity on the confused angel, by explaining the strange cake to him.

“It’s supposed to be like that, Cas,” he said, as he gestured to the red cake vaguely. “I dunno why.”

“It’s the type of cocoa they use - unrefined,” Sam murmured into the dregs of his coffee. “It reacts with one of the other ingredients, turning the sponge red.”

“What he said,” Dean said, as he jerked his head to his brother.

“Oh,” Castiel replied, before returning to nibbling at his cake silently.

After he had finished, he sat quietly for a while, fastidiously cleaning off his crumby fingers on a nearby serviette. Dean waited for the celestial verdict on the state of the cake, which didn’t seem immediately forthcoming.

“And? Did you like your cake?” he asked Castiel, a little impatiently.

Castiel looked up at the hunter, a scowl on his face, but he still didn’t reply. Instead, he stood and tipped the Winchesters’ table onto the floor, table legs pointing at the ceiling, as their plates and cups smashed and rolled over the pristine diner floor. Amid screams from the other patrons, Castiel began demolishing the place, kicking and punching the tables and chairs, even though half the chairs he attacked actually had people still sitting in them.

Dean tried to stop him, but Sam could only sit and watch in amazement. It was only when Sam, in turn, was dumped unceremoniously to the floor by an irate Castiel, that the owner of the diner finally ejected them from the premises, a livid scowl upon her angry features. Dean could only stare at Castiel in confusion.

“Dude, what the hell?” he asked the angel.

“The cake. It was so good, it made me angry,” Castiel replied, sheepishly, not quite able to meet Dean’s confused gaze.

“You enjoyed it, and you got angry? Who does that?” Dean asked, as he turned to Sam.

“Cas, apparently,” Sam murmured, as he nursed a blossoming bruise on his elbow.

“I’d hate to see what you were like if you didn’t like the cake,” Dean said, as he turned back to Castiel.

“Oh, the diner would no longer be standing. Remember Sodom and Gomorrah? That was Gabriel. They served him a substandard creme brulee,” Castiel replied, his face stoic and typically expressionless.

“If that was anyone else saying that, I’d say you were joking,” Dean said. “You’re not, are you?”

“No, Dean. Gabriel was very angry,” Castiel said, gravely.

“I’ll bet. I say we’d best leave before the owner calls the cops on us,” Sam interjected, as he pointed at the still scowling face of the owner peering through the diner’s window.

Dean grunted, before ushering both Sam and Castiel into the nearby Impala and driving away. Dean made a mental note to never try and tempt Castiel into eating again.

~~ the end ~~


End file.
